


Recommencement

by Rinari7



Series: Leading the Blind [4]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Episode Tag, Gen, Year of Hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 04:30:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7670122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinari7/pseuds/Rinari7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Seven's first morning of guiding Tuvok on his rounds. Borg do not feel apprehension.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Recommencement

She was early, with five minutes still before the Alpha shift began. Seven rang anyways, and was bid to enter.   
His living quarters seemed empty, upon first glance, but the door to his bathroom was open.

“I apologize for my tardiness.” Tuvok faced the mirror, a blade in hand. “I seem to have miscalculated the amount of time I would need. This will only take a minute, and I will ensure it does not happen again.”

“No, Lieutenant. It is I who am early.” Preparing herself for duty, she had felt a strange sort of apprehension, one that had hastened her steps in the corridor and left her with a futile desire for some activity to occupy her mind.

“I would have expected your affinity for precision to lead you to arrive at the exact time specified.” He lifted the blade to his face and ran it along his skin, carefully, slowly, slightly hesitantly, and when he removed it, he ran the pads of his fingers over the area.

“As would I,” she said wryly, dryly. She despised her human side, this erratic, illogical, imprecise entity that seemed to control her more and more as of late. It was nothing she wanted him or anyone else to see, and so her next question was more of a deflection than anything else. “Do you require assistance?”

“This is one task I am quite capable of performing myself.”

“I would not mind helping with your personal grooming. As a Borg, I have no socially conditioned revulsion towards bodily fluids or intimate contact. I was accustomed to cohabitating with thousands of drones.”

“I, however, do possess a certain ‘socially conditioned disinclination’ towards such things, and a desire for independence in this area.” He drew the blade over his other cheek, slowly, careful to follow the contour of his jaw.

“As you wish.” Clasping her hands behind her back, she lifted her chin and waited. “I have examined your previously customary route—one that Lieutenant Ayala does not seem to have followed. However, we will not be able to access decks five or nine without first donning a breathing mask. There seems to be a continuing problem with the ventilation systems, which in combination with the large-scale damage have rendered the atmospheric conditions unpredictable.”

“Noted. We will retrieve the necessary equipment before entering those decks. I would like to resume my rounds as normally as possible.” He set the blade down, ran the pads of his fingers over his cheeks, and stood.  
  
Inhaling, Seven reached out to guide his hand to her elbow, her fingers curling around his, and cleared her throat.

The corners of his mouth dipped downwards for a brief moment. “What knowledge of Starfleet security protocol do you already possess?”  
  
“In addition to the knowledge gleaned by Borg assimilation, I have been examining the databases.” It was something to talk about, at least, a productive, logical topic, and after several minutes Seven registered a lack of muscular tension she hadn’t previously noticed had been present.


End file.
